The Hero of Ravenclaw
by WhiskeyTangoFoxtrot
Summary: Through the eyes of a hero upon his return to Ravenclaw. But his reunion is not quite what he expects. A drabble/ficlet for the clever claws LJ community.


**A/N: **

For the clever_claws LJ community's drabble challenge: "write a drabble of no more than 750 words from a particular character's POV...without ever identifying that character by name (or nickname) within the story." The prompts for this story: _decisions_ and _consequences_. Rated T for brief mentions of torture and some mild swearing.

Just ignore the character listing for this one, please? *bats eyes*

* * *

It was by the luck of Merlin that Flitwick's use of a controlled Levitation Charm on my body didn't catch Carrow's notice. Of course, there wasn't much more that that bastard could do to me, besides the Killing Curse.

The pain was unbearable. It felt like every bone in my body was broken, and my extremities had been ripped away from me. I had lost a lot of blood too; the only reason I even had any in me at this point was thanks to Alecto and Amycus forcing Blood Replenishing Potion into my body, so that I could live through another round of torture at the tips of their wands.

Sadists.

Flitwick knocked on the door. The mouth of our bronze eagle opened to ask us our question.

"Why?"

My scarred, dried lips parted; I coughed. Blood came out, the lingering effect of the Cruciatus that Alecto had cast inside my mouth.

Flitwick looked at me, shocked at the sight. He replied, "W-why not?"

"A simple answer to a simple question," and the door opened to a sea of students crying, staring, saying my name. They seemed either relieved that I was still alive or shocked at my condition. I wanted desperately to say something, to make a Terry-style joke or quip, or to say something blunt, like Anthony, Padma, or Morag would. Hell, at this point, if could say I was the victim of a Nargle attack, I'd do it, just for the reactions I'd get.

But instead, I let Flitwick Levitate me up the stairs. My eyes moved about looking for my mates.

Not seeing them made my heart hurt. Where were they? Why couldn't they witness my "triumphant" return to Ravenclaw? I was a bloody hero finally! Sure, all it had taken was saving a first-year. But here I was, the noblest . . . open sore of Ravenclaw.

The pain was making it very difficult to focus on my victory. Not to mention making me feel like my actions had all been for naught.

When we reached my dormitory, the door was already open. There they were. My friends, standing next to Madam Pomfrey. Terry and Anthony gaped at me in horrified shock. Padma's eyes were lined with red, and I was Floated past her to my bed where, for the first time in three days, I felt the soft, cool comfort of my bed sheets.

Pomfrey examined me. Once she gave her instructions on how I needed to rest, to not move my arms, to not talk ("Right! As if that prat could ever keep quiet!" "Mister Boot!" Pomfrey chided), to not do this and not do that, she pulled Flitwick over to the corner.

That's when my friends swarmed around my bedside, to soothe my broken body with compliments and tears, to show just how worried, how frightened they had been. It came out in a single, glorious chorus—

"You troll _ARSE_!" "Stupid git!" Terry and Anthony exclaimed together.

Damn. Instead of accolades, I got insults.

"What possessed you to act so reckless?" Padma asked.

 "Only an idiot would decide that punching Amycus would make for a successful rescue and recovery plan!" Anthony always pointed out the obvious. He rubbed his face, more fatigued than I had ever seen him. I noticed Terry, with his pale skin and red eyes, the same expression of weariness etched upon him.

I tried to shrug, but I winced instead. "S-sorry," I managed, but my voice cracked.

Padma made a scolding sound and she took a bowl that was on my nightstand. She dabbed my wounds.

A little too hard.

I hissed. "Yeow! That's stings," I said. It was more of a croak.

"We have to apply pressure to the wounds. For quicker absorption of the medicine."

"Mate, if you had just told us what you had been planning—"

"What? And g-get you lot in trouble too?" I shut my eyes; it was better than seeing Terry's sickly expression. "I-it was m-my decision, anyways. Only m-me."

There was silence.

"'Re you mad?"

"No," Anthony whispered. "We get it. But it hurt knowing you were being punished and there wasn't a damn thing we could do to stop it."

I looked at them one last time before the sleeping draught finally took effect. "Love y' too."

Right before I finally drifted off, I could hear Terry say to Anthony in a softer voice, "We're going to have to remind the wanker that he said that when he wakes up."

_Fin._


End file.
